


critical hit

by pleurer



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, BDSM, F/M, Femdom, Fingering, Implied Claude/Dimitri/Edelgard, Kink Discovery, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Top Edelgard, Under-negotiated Kink, bottom dimitri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-01 23:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/pseuds/pleurer
Summary: Edelgard doesn’t mean to trespass on Dimitri's private quarters. She simply wishes to return his lost artifact to him.She doesn't expect to walk in on him splayed out on the bed, hand curled around his cock, his face a picture of pure pleasure. And she definitely doesn't expect the sudden heat that flares up in her stomach.





	critical hit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fortunas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortunas/gifts).

> The minute I saw Edelgard/Dimitri in your request, I knew I had to write this. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (CNTW because I don't know exactly how old they are, but feel free to age them up.)
> 
> ETA: Redated for exchange author reveals. I wrote this before playing the game. Since starting the game, I've made minor edits for accuracy regarding the setting.

Edelgard doesn’t mean to trespass on Dimitri's private quarters, particularly not this late at night. Regardless, she and Dimitri had engaged in a sparring session in preparation for the upcoming battle with the three houses, and during their fight she had inadvertently knocked the bronze metal badge that held together his cape to the floor. He had forgotten to retrieve it, and she thought it best to bring it to him right away, lest he panic while getting dressed the next morning. Appearances, she knew, were of utmost importance for the house representatives. She and Dimitri had always agreed more on this matter than Claude.

She keeps her footsteps quiet as she travels down the stone halls of the second floor dorms, the flame lamps that line the corridors flickering faintly against the dark walls. She knows Dimitri’s room when she sees it, and gives the door a soft knock, so as not to wake the other students, who are bound to be sleeping. Or perhaps Dimitri, too, is sound asleep. She tries not to picture it, his severe, serious frown softening into a look of peaceful unguardedness. The thought makes her stomach feel strange. 

Perhaps he really is asleep. She’s about to raise her hand and knock one last time when she hears a moan that is unmistakably his.

Edelgard freezes, feet rooted to the ground. Was he hurt? Had she somehow injured him in their battle? She had landed a couple of hits, but not severe. He had lost, yes, but he had accepted it with grace and had walked back to his quarters in a seemingly effortless fashion. The thought that he might have been hiding an injury flooded her with guilt. She opens the door— which turns out to be unlocked— and rushes in.

As it turns out, Dimitri wasn’t hiding an injury at all. He’s splayed out on the bed, a book of illustrations lying next to him, too far for her to make out. One of his hands is hooked behind him, grasped onto the headboard, hidden from view by his head of golden hair. The other is curled around his cock, hard and flushed red. For a split second, his face is a picture of pure pleasure, eyelashes fluttering beautifully, mouth half open. And then, as she walks into the room, the expression morphs into one of horrified shock. He yanks the covers up over his own body, a scarlet blush smattering across his pale cheeks. It was too late. Edelgard could not unsee the image. It had carved itself into the backs of her eyes. A sudden heat that she seldom let herself feel takes over her body.

“I’m sorry,” she says, trying to sound much calmer than she feels. 

“You’re _ sorry, _” says Dimitri, scoffing with disbelief. “Have you not heard of knocking? Get out.”

Dimitri was pleasant to be around, most of the time. She’d known him long enough to grow accustomed to his moods. But it was this standoffish, defensive side of him, the one that arose whenever he was vulnerable, that sometimes made her want to put him in his place.

She’s about to turn to leave when she notices the bruising on the one visible wrist. It’s red, too, some skin looking to be peeling off. That made no sense, as he had been dressed in a way that did not expose his wrists as they fought. She steps closer to examine the injury.

“You’re hurt,” she says, holding his wrist in her hand. “Was that… from our battle?”

He swats her hand away. His face deepens in colour.

“No,” he says through gritted teeth. “It’s none of your business.”

The corner of a magazine pokes out from the covers. Edelgard takes a long stride to the door, and closes it fully. Then she comes back to Dimitri’s side. She pulls the magazine out in a swift motion, and examines it carefully, simply lifting it above her head when Dimitri makes a swiping motion to grab it back. He won’t stand up to get it, for fear of exposing his naked body. But this magazine exposes all she needs to know. It’s opened to a two-page spread of slender young men with Dimitri’s own body type, tied up in various positions. Some are simple— two hands to the headboard above their head. Some are more elaborate— full-body shibari, suspended from the ceiling. It’s not easy to guess which one exactly he’s getting off to, but she does know that he is very interested in this one thing, one that she almost wishes she did not know.

Almost.

“Let me see your other wrist,” says Edelgard.

“No,” says Dimitri firmly.

“Let me see it,” Edelgard repeats, with the voice she only uses when a member of her house is being exceptionally disgraceful. 

To her surprise, Dimitri obeys instantly. He tilts his head down, and she sees that there’s a thick, rough rope tied around his wrist, securing it to the headboard. It has the same burn as his other wrist. 

“Are you trying to tie yourself up?” says Edelgard. “That’s simply not possible.”

“Watch me,” says Dimitri, head snapping back up to glare at her.

Edelgard sighs and sets down the magazine on his nightstand, facing up, opened to the same page. “If you can’t get yourself off in an efficient and safe manner, it will only slow you down in battle.”

“A little rope burn won’t stop me from taking you down,” says Dimitri, holding his head high.

“Don’t you see? I’m trying to _ help _you,” says Edelgard. “Do you have a tie? Let me show you how to do it safely.”

Dimitri watches her for a moment, considering. After a beat, he says, “In the closet.” 

Edelgard fetches a black silk tie from the closet. “Lift your wrists,” she commands, and is again surprised by how easily her orders are followed. She’s beginning to learn more about his kinks than she ever expected to know. Deftly, she ties his wrists up to the headboard above his head. 

“Do your wrists still hurt from before?” says Edelgard. “This fabric should be gentle enough, but I don’t want to cause you any pain.”

Dimitri has the gall to roll his eyes at her. “I can take a little pain,” he says. “I _ am _a fighter, after all.”

“That you are,” says Edelgard. She narrows her eyes. “You are going to be in a lot more pain, though, if you continue to speak to me in this manner. I am doing you a favour. If you will not accept it with grace, then I shall leave you here, tied up, and see how you like it.”

She watches, pleased, as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His jaw clenches. His dick twitches against his stomach. 

“Good boy,” she says, and smiles at the blush that colours his face. “Now tell me, where do you keep your lube?”

“I don’t need it,” says Dimitri haughtily. “I told you, I can take the pain.” 

It’s Edelgard’s turn to roll her eyes. Of course Dimitri is just as exasperating in bed as he is out of it. “I’m here to help you, not to tear your muscles so that you can’t fight the next day. There’s a line between masochism and insanity. Have you never done this with someone else?”

Dimitri looks shyly away in answer. Up close, his eyelashes are beautiful, framing the stunning blue of his eyes. Edelgard feels a selfish thrill at being trusted with his first time. She tries not to show it, though, for the sake of his pride.

“It’s in the desk drawer,” he says.

Edelgard fetches the lube, and coats her fingers generously with it. She puts a hand on his thigh, pressing them apart. “Spread your legs more,” she says, and he obeys, spreading his legs aside and bending his knees, feet pressed flat to the bed. His chest rises and falls faster than usual, and he lets out a choked, soft noise as she presses the first finger into his hole. 

“How does that feel?” she asks. 

“I can take more,” he says. 

Just for that, she adds another immediately, pushing it in despite the tight stretch. He cries out, head twisting away, golden hair falling across his face. 

“Gorgeous,” she says with a smile. “You’re taking it so well. You were born to do this, weren’t you?”

“Don’t patronize me,” he says, jaw clenched. He’s trembling a little. She wonders if she’s hit a nerve. 

“No, I’m not,” she says. “I mean it. You look beautiful like this.”

He shakes his head to push his hair aside and casts her an intensely displeased glare. So praise was where he drew the line, then. She was having a lot of fun testing his limits.

“What do you want, then?” she says, wrinkling her nose in false distaste. “You want me to call you a slut? A whore? Look at you, completely exposed for me while I’m still fully dressed. I’m going to wreck you without misplacing a single hair on my body.”

At that, he moans, louder than he has before. She thrusts her fingers in and out at a fast pace, until she finds the sweet spot that has him gasping and writhing against the sheets. 

“Come on,” he says. “M-more. Give me more.”

Suddenly shot through with a bold wave of adrenaline, she picks up a ruler lying across his desk. On an inexplicable whim, she hits him across the face with it with a resounding _ smack. _ The reddening welt on his face fills her with an impossible heat, and the tears in his eyes only make him look even more gorgeous. She wants _ all _of him, so intensely that she is nearly knocked over by the force of it.

“You’ve forgotten your manners,” she says, struggling to stay in character, to keep her voice level with how much this is affecting her. “What does a whore like you say when he’s begging his master for something? Huh? Don’t tell me you’re too stupid to remember even _ that.” _

“Please.” The word falls from his lips like he’s been waiting to say it all night. They both have. “Please, Edelgard. Fuck me on your fingers until I come so hard I forget myself.”

“That’s a good boy,” she says, for she really can’t help herself. He’s so _ good _like this, so obedient and pliant just for her, and she can tell he needs it at his core. What she didn’t know was that she needed it, too. She adds in a third finger, thrusting at a relentless pace now, and it doesn’t take long before he comes undone with a cry, elbows knocking against the bed frame as his body shakes with the force of it. 

She unties his wrists and he lays back on the bed, catching heaving breaths. Her own cunt is throbbing with need, but she ignores it. Stands up, dusts herself off. True to her word, she doesn’t have a single hair out of place, while he’s the very picture of debauchery, stomach covered in his own come.

“How are the wrists?” she asks.

“I’m fine,” says Dimitri. “I—” He stares up at a point just past Edelgard’s face, as he says it, imperceptibly quiet. “Thank you.”

“No need,” says Edelgard. “It was my pleasure.” 

“I,” says Dimitri, suddenly shy. “You— you haven’t. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but. Do you want me to—?”

“It’s getting late,” says Edelgard. As much as it pains her to turn down the offer, the clock reads two a.m., and they have a very busy day tomorrow. “But thank you for the offer. I appreciate it.” 

Dimitri nods curtly. His hand plucks absentmindedly at a stray thread on the sheets. 

“I’ll take my leave, then,” she says. Halfway out the door, she pauses and says, “You can fetch me next time if you need my assistance.”

“Next time,” Dimitri echoes blankly.

Edelgard’s heart sinks to her stomach. “I,” she says, suddenly unbearably flustered. “I assumed that—”

“I will,” says Dimitri hastily. “I will. Thank you. And next time, I’ll be sure to return the offer.”

Edelgard relaxes. She doesn’t dare look over her shoulder. To see his face now would tempt her to stay here all night, but she has other responsibilities. 

Only when Edelgard has arrived at her own quarters does she remember that she has forgotten to give Dimitri the discarded badge from his cape, after all. Then again, there was always next time.

-

As Edelgard slips out quietly from Dimitri’s room, Claude ducks behind a column where she can’t see him. 

“Damn,” he mouths silently to himself. He’d come here in secret, to bribe Dimitri for tips on how to win against Edelgard. Instead, he had received a front-row seat to— whatever the hell that was. Worth it, though. He feels a little bad about enjoying this free show in secret, and knows he’s got to come clean to his friends, but not now. Dimitri would probably want to rest, and Claude knows that once he tells Dimitri what he’d seen, neither of them would get any sleep at all, so he heads back to his quarters.

He doesn’t get a wink of sleep.

At breakfast, he catches Dimitri heading into the dining hall, and pats him on the shoulder. “Hey, Dimitri,” he says with a wink. Dimitri turns, brow furrowed in confusion, and in the moment before he can speak, Claude says, “What’s the matter? Your tongue’s all _ tied up.” _

Dimitri narrows his eyes. “Nothing,” he says. “I’m off to get breakfast. Don’t bother me.”

Out the corner of his eye, Claude sees Edelgard fix him with a knowing look. 

And then, ten seconds too late, Dimitri’s eyes go wide and his entire face flushes a vibrant red.


End file.
